Trifecta (5 page)

"My friend has a question."  Anne pointed to her.

Lauren tensed, her body unable to carry her the three feet to the counter.  Her mouth dried out.

"Miss Redmond."  Anne prodded.

She straightened up and stepped forward glancing down at the bracelets, the small leather goods, and the pens all kept pristine behind glass.  Everything with the logo that told the world you didn't just make it, you really made it, or more likely your husband made it.  One had to go about asking for the purse in the right way.  There was a protocol. "May I see that pencil please?" 

The sales person opened the case, took out the writing implement and handed it to her.

She held the pencil emblazoned with the Jacques logo and a design definitive of this designer.  "Does this go through a normal sharpener?"

The sales person nodded.

She was about to ask if it were a number two pencil, but held back.  Only in this store would a pencil cost more than a hundred dollars, and she handed the pencil back.  "You know instead of this I would like to see a Valerie bag please." 

Anne leaned over the counter.

The sales woman pursed her lips.  "We have none in stock."

"Liar."  Anne coughed.

Anne had no fear and no filter, which was exactly why selling antibiotics from a prewritten script suited her, but Lauren was the filler sales person to the stars, or at least the star's doctors, and this sales person should be thrilled to serve her.   She cleared her throat.  "A Valerie bag.  You must have one in the back."

"There is a six month waiting list.  The deposit is $10,000 and the person in charge of the Valerie bags is not here.  You must make an appointment."  She held her arm up and motioned toward some purses on the shelves behind her.  "I have many other bags."

No.  There were no other bags.  "Thank you, I will think about making an appointment."  She backed away.  "Come on, Anne."

Anne shrugged her shoulders and followed her out.  "Wimp.  You know they have one, you should have asked for the manager."

She returned to Rodeo and walked to the corner of Little Santa Monica.  The store wouldn't be nearly as grand if it weren't on the grand street.  "What color would you get?"

"What?"  Anne stopped next to her. 

"What color Valerie bag?  Would you get black to go with everything, or would you get a statement color?"  She touched her head once more and sighed.  Along with combing her hair she probably should have washed it. 

"Does the color matter as long as an MD buys it?  More like Dr. Dalton." Anne elbowed her.

Dr. Dalton.  Dr. Gregory Dalton. 
The
plastic surgeon, with
the
practice and
the
clientele. He was young, virile, well-off and her number one account.  Before her mother died she told her to marry a doctor and she would have a good, stable life with no worries. Dr. Dalton fit the scrubs she was after.  "Whatever."  She needed to remember it wasn't the purse, it was the purse purchaser.  She would never have anything if she didn't move out and away from temptation and now she knew how tempting.  She swore she could still feel them throughout her body.  "We should have gone to Orange and gone antiquing."

"Orange County?"  Anne moved in front of her.  "What is your deal today?"

"I think I need to go apartment hunting."

"What?"  Anne grabbed her shoulders.  "What happened to the boys?  Is Russell okay?"

Somehow Lauren thought her friend should be asking if she were okay.  "Russell is fine.  I just think it's time for me to move on.  I'm never going to have a boyfriend if I don't move out."  Jason and Russell were guy repellent, especially if she wanted a man like Dr. Dalton.

"You're still talking to them, right?"  Anne gripped her tighter.  "Russell is going to the charity ball, right?"

"Yes, everything is fine."  She opened her own bag and found her car keys.  No, not a Valerie, a bag Jason picked out for her because it fit all her items, and was made by an artisan in Hollywood.  He said it was a real one-of-a-kind.  "It was just a thought."

"Well maybe if you moved out not only would you be more available, but Russell would be as well."  Anne chuckled.  "I'll go hunting with you.  I think there are some cute places by mine, or did that raise of yours net you something in the heart of Beverly Hills?"

She wanted to tell Anne she not only got a monetary raise, but two others, and one raise was one Anne would die for - Russell's.  "You know I think I'm going to go home and clean up. I'll call you later."

"I'll be glad to help you.  You should move out."  Anne grabbed her arm.

She stared at her friend and swore the woman was fighting a smile with the way the corner of her mouth twitched.  "I'll let you know."

This was something she was going to have to do alone, or at least with her and some vintage hair band ballads playing in the background. 

Chapter Five

The lights on the houses illuminated her path, each one uniform as if all the owners planned a trail of golden beams to lead her to her home on her last night.  They rented the house in West Hollywood one week after graduating college.  By then Russell had his job at the financial firm only six miles away on Wilshire, she had her first job as a sales rep in the Los Angeles territory, and Jason insisted Hollywood inspired his creativity. 

On their first night, Jason complained about the lights, called them boring, and the next day she and Jason drove to three different stores to find a purple light bulb to fit their lamp.  Every night since, the golden lights led her to the one purple outcast, and when she saw it, she knew she was home.

However, tonight no purple glow met her.  The house stood dark.  No purple glow, no lights from inside, nothing.  In all the years of living with her men she never remembered coming home to a dark house. 

She pulled into the driveway and rested her head on the steering wheel.  This couldn't be her home any longer, and they weren't her men.  All day she drove around trying to figure out what happened.  With no answers, she knew she needed to buck up and grow up, cut herself loose. They coddled her, and now she had to move on, or one day she would be left alone.

Yes, the house was empty, and it was better.  Now she could avoid seeing them and answering questions. After last night they were destroyed anyway. 

Though somehow she thought they would be there.

Maybe it was hope.

Before getting out the car, she checked the envelope she prepared while attempting to fill out an application at an apartment building today.  Every time she looked at the empty blanks on the form, or tried to compose a letter to them, her hand trembled, allowing her only to write out a check for the next six months’ rent and toss the application in the trash.

She got out of the car and ran to the door, nearly twisting her ankle when she tripped on nothing.  With her vision blurry and her heart on fire, it took her three shots to hit get her key in the lock, and two tries to turn the knob.

Her envelope lagged behind in joining her keys on the floor when she saw the house.

The darkness that greeted her outside didn’t match the inside, and she didn’t need to pack.  

They packed for her.  The lack of light outside came from the mix of boxes and her belongings piled so high they blocked the windows.  She didn’t even realize she owned this much.   The boxes seemed to bow and retreat making her dizzy, causing her to kneel down behind a row of cardboard to catch her breath.  At least the memory of having them both for one night would forever be marred by them silently agreeing she needed to leave.

She wrapped her arms around herself and made a plan.  Tonight she would just grab some clothes and essentials and figure out how to get the rest out later. They didn't even label the boxes. 

“There are two paths.”  Russell’s voice intruded on her solitude.

“What?”  She turned, trying to find him but only seeing the never-ending wall of boxes. 

“It’s your choice.”  Jason spoke this time.  “One path will lead you out the back door where we have a moving van set to take you anywhere you want to go.”

Moving van?  Choice?  "Jason?" 

“The other path leads to a different destination.”  Russell took over again.

"Russell?"  She forced herself up and took in the space.  The boxes weren't haphazardly piled up as she first thought.  There were indeed two makeshift tunnels made from the boxes, one led toward the kitchen and the back door, and the other toward the bedrooms. "Where does the other path lead?" 

"To us."  Jason answered. 

Not understanding, she pressed her lips together.

"You take that path, you don't move out and we see what happens with the three of us."  He answered her question.

The three of them?  She shook her head.  Could they want her for more than one night of bad timing?  As her focus darted from one tunnel to the other, she put her fingernail in her mouth contemplating her options.

She could leave, show up at Dr. Dalton's or any other Dr. Someone on Monday morning and try to restart her life the way her mother wanted her to, or she could go to her men and see what they meant by the three of them. 

Her first instinct was to ask Russell.  He knew every answer, even to the strangest, most bizarre random questions.  "No."  This decision she had to make on her own.  She got on her knees.

"You need to choose."  Russell's tone told her there would be no more information until she picked her path.

She glanced toward the boxes that lead to the kitchen.  A secure, planned life waited at the end.  Then she turned toward the path leading to the bedroom.  Down that road were the two men she loved since she met them.  How could they offer her this and she not take it?  Twenty years from now when she was someone's wife with her two kids and a dog would she still be kicking herself for not exploring the three of them.  A little secret for only her.

She swallowed, biting her lip as she peeked at both options.  No doubt, in twenty years they would have all gone separate ways with their separate families.  Would she hate herself for going after what she wanted, and delaying her future?  Would the memory haunt her forever, a ghost following her everywhere, leaving a hole in her heart?  Was it better to leave this forgotten and finished, or did she take one decadent detour?

She chose her path and began to crawl.  It was then she realized that one of Jason's works of art surrounded her.  One designed especially for her and her choice, but it had Russell written all over it as well.  Not only had he allowed the house to be turned into a full-fledged disaster area, but it had to be his engineering that allowed the tunnels to stay put.

There weren't many tunnels in Los Angeles, at least not ones she went in.  Tunnels were confining, narrow with speeding cars.  She always felt as if she were going to hit the sides, and as she inched through this makeshift passage she swore this tunnel was longer than the one from the 105 freeway to LAX.

At least at the end of this tunnel she didn't have to get on a plane…or load her items into a moving van.

"Lauren."  Russell caught her shoulders.

"Laurie."  Jason grabbed her arm and helped her up.

Her legs struggled to hold her, her knees weak, sore from pulling herself over the tile in their entry way and the carpet through their living room.

Unlike the night before, Russell kissed her first, and unlike the night before it was a soft kiss.  Not the blur that got the three of them into bed, but a welcoming kiss, the kiss one would give their partner when they returned home after being lost.

Russell pulled back and Jason took her chin and repeated his best friend's action. While she expected his kiss to be more playful than Russell's, he surprised her by brushing his lips against hers causing the welcome Russell gave her to wrap around her and hold her tight. 

Jason moved his lips to her cheek and then her ear.  "I think I can speak for both of us when I tell you that we are happy you didn't choose the moving van."

She braced herself on both of them, something she had been doing for years.  "So, what are we doing?"  She glanced between them, but settled on Russell.

For the first time in seven years Russell didn't answer.

"We are doing what we should have done since about junior year in college."  Jason nodded.

She touched the top of her head needing to make sure she still had her mind, grimacing when she remembered she still hadn't washed her hair.  She didn't know what to do, how to act.  How could both of them want her? "What now?" She tried again.

Both Russell and Jason stared at her.  How could they have an answer when she didn't have one herself?

***

"Look we found everything we needed."  Jason held up a pair of Lauren's panties and a sock.  "Well, we don't need this."  He tossed the sock over his shoulder and tilted his head at the red and white striped panties with lace trim.  "Maybe we don't need this either."

"Maybe we should have not really packed, or maybe we should have labeled the boxes like I suggested."  Russell shook his head.  "Maybe mixing all her stuff up so she would have a hard time unpacking if she chose to move away was a bad idea since we wanted her to stay.  Now we have to deal with the aftermath."

"See, there's the black rain cloud."  He held up the panties again.  "It's Saturday night and all we found for her to wear is this."

"You do have a point." Russell shrugged his shoulders.  "But what happens now?"  He mirrored Lauren's question from before.

His best friend's insecurities poured out of him, but at least he wasn't backing out.  "Now we join her in the bathroom."  Russell shocked the hell out of him when his neat-freak friend sent Lauren into his prize bathroom to clean up.  Russell's bath boasted a deluxe whirlpool tub.  He guided Russell to their destination.

"Do we just go in?"  Russell held his hands out, shielding the door.

Jason patted his skittish friend.  "We slept with her last night, we're going to sleep with her again tonight.  You sent her in here.  You even found bubble bath and put it in the water for her.  I personally checked the temperature and found a towel.  I think we've earned the right to see the efforts of our hard work."  He reached around Russell, gave one warning knock and turned the door handle.

He opened the door a crack and tried to spy Lauren in the reflection of the mirror, but everything was steamed over.  "Can we come in?"  He raised his voice trying to sound inviting.

"Okay," Lauren called.

"Jackpot."  He turned back to Russell, grinned and entered.  At first his plan was to charge in there, disrobe and jump in the tub and convince Russell to do the same, but he stopped at the vision before him.  If he needed any inspiration, it was right here with Lauren in the bathtub.

The copious amount of bubbles hid yet revealed her form, and her slicked back wet hair allowed him to focus on her face. Even with no makeup she was a beauty, and the heat in the room made the color rise in her cheeks.  The blue of her eyes stood out, sparkling against the white tile around her.  Her lips seemed especially lush, and perfectly pink.

He cleared his throat.  If he tore his gaze away from her face, he could take in the curves of her leg.  Only one dew dropped leg snuck out from the mounds of bubbles.  He wondered if she just shaved. His creativity flowed like the water from the faucet. 

"Are you okay?"  The water splashed around her.

"It's kind of hot in here."  He swallowed.  No, he wasn't overwhelmed with the need to jump in the water.  He was just overcome with the need to be near her.

"I think it's perfect."  She smiled and lifted her leg a bit higher, resting it on the tile wall.

He licked his lips and glanced over at Russell.

Russell swallowed, his Adam's apple traveling up and down his neck twice before he took off his glasses, wiped them on a towel and returned them to his face. 

The three of them didn't say a word, only stared at each other.

"Do you want to scrub my back?"  She lifted a washcloth out of the bubbles.

"Yes!" they said in unison and rushed to the edge of the tub.  Their race ended in a tie, and they both reached for the cloth as if they were begging for a scrap.

"It's my bathroom."  Russell set his jaw.

"If we share a bed, we share a bath."  Jason wouldn't be bested by his best friend because he had the best bathroom in the house. 

Lauren bit her lip.

"I am the one who had to open fourteen boxes to find the scant clothing she has now."  Russell put two fingers on the wet washcloth.

"Is she here in this bathtub now offering us the opportunity to bathe her?"  He mimicked Russell's actions.  "The box sculpture worked."  He winked at her.

Her gaze ping-ponged between the two of them, following the banter.

Neither of them budged. 

"We are going to have to figure this out." This could easily turn into a competition and that wouldn't work, but he couldn't surrender.

"How about you both do it."  Lauren reached around and found a sponge.

Leave it to Laurie.  "You may pick what medium you want to work in."  He elbowed Russell.

Russell took the sponge and added soap.  He slid over and began washing her back. 

Jason watched for a moment before taking his washcloth.  Rather than joining Russell, he moved down to her legs, taking the one that was already out of the water and deciding to pay it some long overdue attention.  Last night things moved fast. He didn't get enough time to truly relish in what he finally won.

"Where did you go all day?"  Russell moved her hair aside and rubbed the sponge across her neck.

He wanted to ask that question himself, but now he could listen in as he made his way from her ankle to her knee.  The way the water glistened off her smooth leg told him she definitely shaved.

"It's so stupid."  She closed her eyes and her voice lowered.

The silliness of arguing over who got the sponge or the washcloth faded.  Russell must have felt it too.  He dropped the sponge and put his hands on her shoulders.